One Early Sunday Mornin'
by C.H.E.A.R
Summary: EC fanfic. Calleigh can't sleep and what does she do to get Eric laughing? R


Okay, so you all gotta know how on earth I came up with this ONESHOT. About half an hour ago I had a nightmare then decided to listen to some Christian music, but then I found a Southern Gospel station on itunes radio. And that's the best kind! And you know southern goes with Calleigh so I remembered her and came up with this.

One Early Sunday Mornin'

Her eyes fluttered open to meet the dark blue glare coming in through from the window. Having switched her position in bed and waited about twenty minutes, Calleigh finally sighed because sleep was far gone now. She peeked over the thin white fabric which concealed her shoulders and smiled contently before swinging her feet over the side of the bed. The alarm clock met her with a red blinking six o' clock, but she rose all the same.

After freshening up in the bathroom a bit, she took one more glance at the bed and crept her way down the carpeted stairs. The blue-black sky had become gradually lighter and lighter guiding her down into the lonely kitchen. One flick and the light was on and forcing her eyes to squint searching throughout the neatly arranged room. Yes, Calleigh was the bullet of the lab: hard to bend/break unless fired, but her kitchen was definitely her haven. The cupboards, shelves and counters were endlessly wiped down to a shine like she clean a gun.

Quickly she scanned the room to figure out what to do and without a doubt spotted something that shouldn't have been in there immediately. She dug the black object out of the corner behind the blender and microwave.

"Oh," Calleigh stared at it then smiled. The small convenient radio with only about three buttons: on/off, vol, and the one to change the station. A laugh burst out her mouth when she realized it was her mother's which she might've left years ago! She quickly plugged it in and rested it on the counter. The soft Christian Gospel began radiating through the room – ironic for a small device.

Eventually she busied herself as did the sun that shone brightly now. With a hair band in her hair and a happy spirit she swayed back and forth humming the sweet music she'd grown up into. To the fridge, from the counter and back, then onto a hot frying pan the food went.

"_Mmmm…"_ she closed her eyes taking in the scent. She gave the food a toss which flipped the browning strips over and sautéed some of them other thingsin another pot. The southern sounds of the church on a Sunday moved their way into her body once more and she twirled away from the heat of the stove singing… and screamed. The spatula fell to the ground.

"Mornin'," Eric greeted from his position leaning himself against the fridge. He laughed at her palm that covered her mouth as she remained in shock. "Whatcha doin' there, young Miss?" he asked with southern accent she never knew he could even fake. Slowly her hand fell from her face revealing an embarrassing smile followed by a light shade of pink on her cheek. He bent down and picked up the spatula that had flown out her hand.

"Thanks… oh my Gosh!" she jumped towards the stove and grabbed the pots off before the food could begin to burn.

"Let me help," he found some plates and took a pot from her. They both transferred the breakfast and placed the pots into the sink.

"Thanks, but you know it's your fault, right?"

"No, southern women are supposed to know how to cook, and how _long_ to cook food for." He pulled her body away from the sink and against him.

"Well, we do," she grinned, "but you should also know that you should _never _get between her and southern music."

"Oh," he said quite seductively. He grabbed her by the hips despite her hands trying to force him off and brought her over to the radio.

"Eric, no, put me down," she giggled as he placed her on the counter top, "at least let me finish our breakfast…"

"All that was left to do is to burn it, Cal.," he teased. Eric quickly raised her arms and pinned them to the cabinet to prevent her from climbing down and rested against her.

"Stop," she gasped from his touch. She attempted to fight him but gave in when his lips captured hers. Her arms slackened and were soon free to wrap around his neck.

"That's why you can't get between, a southern woman, and her radio music," she tried to talk while Eric was still nipping at her lips, "she'll get distracted."

"Are you done?" she laughed.

"Hmm, yeah, for now," he turned around, "now for some real food." Calleigh kicked him on the ass playfully then jumped down.

"Nothing like Sunday breakfast when you have no work to rush to," he smiled brightly at a full plate of crispy bacon, stacked pancakes and onion rings. Calleigh grabbed his arm before he was able to move.

"Hey, um, did you find that and put it in here?" she pointed at the radio.

"Yeah, the other day I did," he picked up her plate, "I figured you want it, you know since you really love your music."

Calleigh sat around the table first as he handed her the plate.

"I'm glad I did," he pulled up his chair next to her, "because that was hilarious." She slapped the fork out of his hand and it clunked into the glass plate. Her narrowed eyes sent him a warning fast then resumed their position on her own food.

"Hey, I was only kidding, don't take it personally."

Eric frowned, picking up the fork attempting to consume the long strip of bacon but it kept falling off. She quickly took note of this and as soon as he got it she slapped it away once more. Slowly his eyes met her in annoyance to find her glancing into the living room. And she did it again. Calleigh grinned with her mouth full of food.

"Now, _that's_ hilarious," she corrected proudly.

"Oh, yeah?" he pushed his eyebrows up, "Well I'll show you what's hilarious…"

"Ah!" she screamed. He jumped out of his seat grabbing her body in the process and headed towards the couch...


End file.
